A Future That We Brought
by Moony the Mature One
Summary: What can make one become a new man? A new environment? A different time period? A different set of laws? No matter what the answer is, Alexander Hamilton and his companions are not throwing away their shot! OR The author tries to write a college AU without actually having gone to college yet themselves.
1. Prologue: confusion of a man long passed

**Hey, a new story! This was actually posted on ao3 first but then I thought why not post it here?**

 **Finals were last week and I was very busy. So the natural thing was to get obsessed with once again, another fandom. This time, it's the Hamilton fandom!**

 **Hamilton introduced me to a lot of things, including an obsession over real people and not fictional characters! Anyway, here's the story!**

 **Disclaimer that I keep forgetting: I don't own Hamilton! I don't own the Founding Fathers! I'm not even American! I haven't seen the musical but I did listen to the soundtrack.  
**

 **Word count: 292**

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 **Prologue: Confusions of a Man Long Passed**

It started a while ago. As though awakening after a strange dream, his memories flitted in his mind without forming a coherent narration. He followed a routine, something he must've done a hundred times before, and went to the institution, his mind still swirling with hazy thoughts, remembrance of something he could not quite get a hold of, something that could be important to his being. The surrealness tone on his life persisted for a year, then two, until one day, six years after his life was thrown into chaos, a bizarre clarity settled over his mind. The crisp memories came to him like an old friend and he was finally able to sort out what exactly happened to him. That day, he skipped school for the first time in years, and wrote and wrote and wrote, every single detail he could remember, on every notebook he could get his hands on. He wrote non-stop until a pile of more than a thousand sheets of paper lied in a mess around his chair and his foster parents could no longer ignore the calls from the school. Then, he leaned back in a daze, bright eyes scanning the documents around him, finally still for long enough to wonder _how it was possible_ , and _how…_

Human bodies were all the same no matter how many centuries was in between them. His body, still that of a young man barely of age, could not resist the temptation of sleep. So, with a crash, he fell sideways onto the floor, his mind long gone in a dream of a time long past.

A flutter of paper rose up, disturbed by his fall. A name stood out among others. The name of this young man: Alexander Hamilton.


	2. Chapter 1: From an Outsider's View

**Chapter 1 is up quickly because I already wrote it and the prologue was very short.**

 **This is from an OC teacher's POV. He will cameo but not play a very active role in the story. This is just for exposition.**

 **Word Count: 1290**

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 **Chapter 1: From An Outsider's View**

There was a strange buzzing in the air. It was as though something in the universe had irrevocably changed and everyone was aware of it, but none were quite certain on what exactly it was.

For years, the school had been undergoing a series of reconstructions, somehow reversing the modernization that happened a decade ago. The college was composed of regal wood and stone buildings instead of its former cool cement coating. The school had one campus, on which were seven buildings. He himself, Ronald Landers, was a professor who taught in one of the most used building, that of social arts and science. The building spanned a block and was well-maintained despite its age. Everyday while students in other buildings toiled at their homework, the students in this building organized all kinds of social events, from debates to parties, from fairs to fieldtrips to actual political cabinet meetings. It quickly became one of the faculties that were applied to the most. Surrounding the building was a small moat-like river, with a few stones and bridges crossing over it. Students often hung out on the other side.

Near the building were two residence buildings. The shorter one was where many of George Washington's students resided. Statues of political figures were surprisingly frequently found around the campus. George claimed it was to constantly remind the students to be responsible because history had its eyes on them, on every action they take and every work they create. The board of education greatly disliked that notion, but could do nothing about it since their leader already left George to do what he wanted as long as he paid for it.

George Washington, was both the principal of the college and one of its professors. He firmly followed the boldness of his namesake by opening the previously rich private boarding school to house a college full of students of any descent, any status, any gender. It went against the ideas of the board, and because of that, if one listened closely, a whisper of change floated through the school, of a charge against the school board that had injured the school itself and brought to G. King College a reputation for restricting the pursuit of "life, liberty, and happiness." Rumors had it that students themselves had formed clubs against the school board. The student council was one of the organizations that had the most suspicions on them. It was formed by George five years back, a few years after he took the position of principal in the school. Ronald had repeatedly heard him claim that the student council helped him lighten some of the load of his work.

Ronald Landers was a satisfied man. He had a wife, a child, a good house, and a stable job as the teacher of English Language Arts at G. King College. The fight the school had against the board may seem urgent, but to him it was of no immediate importance. It was the time for the first staff meeting of the semester, also known as "discuss-who-might-be-the-next-group-of-troublemakers-in-your-class" meeting. It was a meeting specially created for George King. George King, nicknamed "King" to not confuse him with George "General" Washington, was fond of complaining about how many of the students disliked him as a professor. King used to be the leader of the board of education and freely spent their funds on frivolous things, but a year after George Washington was appointed principal of the school, he had a strange change in ideas and went on a "vacation". He began teaching Design studies and European History at the college. He went back to fix some things from time to time, but mostly left the affairs with Washington. However, he seemed to have taken on the job to annoy Washington whenever he had the chance. Staff members often joked that while it didn't seem as serious, their rivalry reminded them of the American Revolution and how George's namesake fought against the British and their King. When that was brought up, both men had such dark looks on their face that the topic of namesakes was no longer discussed in the school.

Ronald Landers was a professor who had tea and coffee regularly with other members of the staff. He was impartial, much like another student in his class, a certain Aaron Burr. From one ear he listened to Washington's fond tone talking about the student council's latest exploits, from the other ear, he listened to King's repeated nagging of disciplining the unruly rebellious children. To him, Washington was just his principal, who was also a fellow professor who taught American history and political science in the school. He had no animosity towards King nor towards the board of education. Staff meetings were often tedious affairs as the two George's argued like cats and dogs across the table, disrupting everyone. They seemed not to agree with anything. There was more history between them, since Ronald could catch, from time to time, a glimpse of nostalgia past the arrogant contempt in King's eyes, and a shred of worry and anger under Washington's eyes. When they went at it, Ronald would usually step aside, but kept a watchful eye on them in case it became violent. True, they were competent professors, but sometimes, it would seem as though they had lost sight of their surroundings. Sometimes, it seemed as though it was about to get physical, but then Washington would reach for something by his side that wasn't there, while King would retreat, grasping at a long walking stick he seemed to favour occasionally. The tension would temporarily abate and no one would get physically injured.

Today, the room was once again stiff with tension. The two men were butting heads over the issue of the power the student council held over school issues. Washington was adamant that the students should have more rights of speech over school matters, but King was against it with the reason being that Washington was the group's supervisor (and thus favoured the students), and the school should be satisfied with the amount of power mere students have already. King had slipped into a British accent, which usually happened when he talked of his past or when he was very emotional. He was telling Washington about the students "back in his days" and how improved modern life was. Landers always found it baffling when he listened to those tirades because it sounded as though George King hailed from a dead royal family, when he knew that George King only came upon his wealthy family fortune as a young adult. He also sounded like Landers' father when his father reminisced about events that happened almost a century ago, despite King and George being clearly only in their late 40's.

He didn't want to pry too much into King and George's personal matters though. He respected both the students' and the staff members' privacy. He also preferred doing things at his own pace. Which was why, when strange things started happening to both the students and the staff, he steadily ignored them and continued on with his life. Which was why, when the line between some of the students and the teachers started to blur, Landers never noticed and went on as usual. Which was why, by the time he did acknowledge something big was happening, Alexander Hamilton and his companions had already formed an important circle of people to make waves both within and outside the school. Which was why he never noticed the bizarre coincidence of the names of his students and fellow staff members.

He told himself that there must have been a generation of historian children at school and continued on with his roll call.


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting some familiar people

**Ooh we're getting to the actual characters now! Please notify me if you find any of them extremely out of character.**

 **Word Count: 1,976 (Got a bit carried away with the dialogues here)**

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"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr sir?"

A shudder wracked through a young, dark-skinned man. He quickly straightened up his dark purple jacket and glanced behind. Another shorter man stood casually behind him, hand reaching towards his shoulder. He whacked the hand away and backed up slightly, ignoring the flash of hurt that passed through the other man's eyes. He paused to calm himself before saying,

"That depends, who's asking?"

The young man brightened up considerably.

"Oh well sure, sir. I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service sir! I have been looking for you!"

The darker man gulped nervously. "I'm getting nervous…" He put his hand up to stop Hamilton from continuing. "Wait! Why...are you calling me 'sir'? If you're heading there, then we're classmates…" He nodded towards the school looming before them.

The shorter man stared at him in confusion for a second, but recovered quickly.

"Oh, well. I heard of you at school, sir, and 'sir' is for uh, respect! I mean, I heard you graduated from undergrads within two years which is pretty impressive! Yeah, so I heard your name when I was seeking an accelerated course of study at my old high school! But then I got sort of at odds with this guy. I may have punched-"

"A friend of mine?" Burr interrupted. Hamilton beamed at him, before frowning at the memory.

"Yes! I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid, I'm not stupid." Burr sighed.

"Hamilton, of course he did. You do realize there is no… revolution... happening right now, yes?"

"But-"

"Besides, why are you called Alexander Hamilton anyway, isn't that the name of some president or something-"

"Secretary of the Treasury! And your name is stupid! Aaron Burr is the name of the guy who couldn't settle for any opinion and ended up shooting my namesake!" Hamilton wrinkled his nose in disgust. When he said 'namesake', Burr saw how uncomfortable he was with it and understood more or less what was happening. He was confused about why Hamilton approached him though. Why approach him when he...

"Right. Okay. Um, can I show you around a bit? There are a few guys here you might want to meet..."

"That would be nice!" Hamilton nodded eagerly.

"Alright, while we're talking let me give you some free advice. I hope you'll remember in the future to talk-"

"Less, smile more, yeah?" Hamilton interrupted quickly.

Burr peered at him inscrutably. "Yes… since you know about it, why don't you follow it?"

"But Burr, if you don't let your opinion be known, you'll be nothing in the future! Say, I know you have a lot of good opinions, so what do you stall for?" Hamilton asked indignantly. Burr immediately turned away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, you know exactly what I'm talking about!" Hamilton persisted, following him.

"We're not having this conversation here, let's go."

"Aha! So you do admit-"

"Let's go. I need to go to sleep early today or else I'll wake up late and miss tomorrow's class."

Hamilton shook his head as though he just remembered he still had to go to school the next day.

"Yeah, right." He scoffed. "What class do you have first?"

"Political Science with George Washington." Burr answered promptly.

"Well, you know what? Washington isn't a stiff man like you! He won't punish you just for being late to one class! Just because-"

"'Hamilton, I swear-"

"Ok, ok, don't look at me so murderously, but as you said, while we're walking we can talk, right? So let's go!" He took a deep breath and Burr braced himself for the rant that would sure follow. "I heard you studied at this college for undergraduate studies for two years and you're already heading to do your masters? Well, I was wondering if you have any other advice that do not involve" he dipped down him head and said in a lower Burr-like tone "'Talk less smile more'". He straightened up again and continued in a lighter carefree voice that Burr hadn't heard in years "Something that could help me do the same thing as you did, you know? Also, have you read the papers that George Washington published about the current political situation in the States? I'm shocked that he hasn't been sacked yet, but that's the "General" for you! Also, one more thing! What's with the "King" working at this college anyway, why does he even want to work, not that I'm complaining, but isn't it super out of character of him to work, with Washington even? Couldn't he just leave the work to his men and go on a vacation or something, isn't he very rich, but wait maybe this is a vacation for him, or maybe he's secretly taking information about Washington at school and he'll report it to the board to sack Washington or something-"

"Alexander Hamilton! Talk less, smile more," Burr interrupted, glancing around cautiously. No one else seemed to be listening, so he relaxed a bit. "Don't let the world know what your most honest opinion is. Haven't you learned the danger of that already? If you have such strong opinions, keep them to yourself, or else you might be expelled."

Alexander puffed up indignantly before slouching back down, looking considerably more subdued. "I just thought… you'd be like me… even if you were the one who-"

"Shh, not here Hamilton. Don't talk about it here. Not everyone is like you here, but I have some acquaintances that, as I mentioned before, you might want to meet. Come along now, if you want to get ahead here, let's shut up and hurry."

"Yes sir!" With that, the two young men quickly strode past the front entrance and pushed their way to the front stairs of the main building. Rows of tables stood in line to welcome new students. Burr led Hamilton to the nearest table where the latter signed up for his residency. ("Ah, you're in the same building as me and the rest of my friends.""You have friends here, Burr?...What?""...Nothing, let's go.") They hauled their things to the residence building and got their keys from the building supervisor. Burr was on a lower level than Hamilton. They dropped his stuff down first, on the lower bunk bed before proceeding up the elevator to Hamilton's floor.

As they approached the door number, they heard sounds of partying and crashes inside that room. Burr looked at the door apprehensively while Hamilton's eyes lit up and he practically threw open the door.

"WHAT TIME IS IT?"

The three occupants of the room froze for a second before leaping up with joy and shouting in reply.

"SHOW TIIIIIME!"

Burr sighed wearily and left the rest of Hamilton's belongings on the floor beside the door. He slowly retreated from the doorway, hoping to leave unnoticed. But someone spotted him.

"Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr! Com'ere to drop some knowledge, eh?"

"Laurens," Burr acknowledged, frowning at the pink flush of his face. "Are you drunk again?"

"Hehe, you've been avoiding us for the past few moooonnnnnttththhs," Laurens drawled. "Don't think we're letting you go so eeeaaasillyyyy, BURR!" He ended with a shout, giggling to the side. He fell over as Hamilton nudged him out of the way. Hamilton looked at Burr suspiciously.

"What are you leaving for? What are you avoiding them for? Are you feeling guilty or something 'cause it's been years sir and I'm not throwing my shot this time. You're still going to wait?"

"Alexander, I'm not impulsive like you and I don't have your luck. I need to wait for the right opportunity. And don't call me sir."

"But-!"

"Last time was a mistake, now let me go, I need to meet up with my own roommates. Oh yeah, I talked to Jefferson yesterday on Skype. He said hi," Burr told a curly haired student calmly.

"Ah oui oui, merci," the student replied distantly in French. Hamilton frowned and mouthed "Jefferson?" at Burr, but he was quickly distracted by Laurens' turtle pet that he had smuggled into the school. Burr used that as an opportunity to wisely retreat.

In no time he was back in the safety of his own room. Well, safety was a relative saying. As soon as he passed the doorway, a young man started coughing wildly. Burr turned away to not catch his germs.

"Are you alright James?"

The young man was James Madison, Jefferson's best friend and a fellow political science classmate. He finally stopped coughing and gulped down some water.

"Y-yes, thanks for asking."

The door suddenly banged open and the two occupants of the room jumped at the arrival of their last roommate.

"It is I," the newcomer announced. "Thomas Jefferson is back from France!" He smirked at their disgruntled looks. "So what did I miss?"

Burr ignored him expertly while Madison came up to bump Jefferson in the back.

"Hey, it's good to see you back man, now go unpack. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

Jefferson sat down on Madison' bunk and released a dramatic sigh.

"I see that I've been missed by you people quite a lot! I saw some familiar faces on the way here… Hey Burr?"

Burr flinched slightly but looked over to the brightly dressed man with a bland smile. "Yes?"

"Why don't you tell us about your little stroll with the newest member of our… Squad…" He trailed off in distaste. The Revolutionaries, the squad was called, and it was the name that was picked two years ago by the majority of their group of… well, friends, when they started meeting with each other regularly both in and out of school. Jefferson left for France a year later but kept in touch through various medias. He was not the biggest fan of that name, but he had no role in picking it since he was overseas.

Burr shook himself out of his contemplation and peered at him.

"I didn't know you were interested in random new students."

"Ehehehe, I know that wasn't an ordinary guy!" Jefferson laughed. "It's been awhile but I can recognize him immediately! It's Hamilton, yeah? Alexander Hamilton is here in America once again?"

"Hm… You really paid attention huh," Burr mused, fingers tapping on his set of textbooks, distractedly. "Yes, that was him, and he talked of revolution too." He hesitated and eyed Jefferson suspiciously. "Is there a revolution going on?"

The other two looked a little confused.

"Not that I know of…" Madison frowned.

"Pah! That guy is probably still living in the 80's!" Jefferson exclaimed.

"But this needs to be investigated. King might be more on our side this time, but that doesn't mean there aren't other injustices here." Madison continued.

The two nodded contemplatively. Burr cleared his throat.

"So... should we meet up with the others?"

"Lunch tomorrow," Jefferson waved his hand dismissively. "There's gotta be some new stuff going on that I need to catch up on. Let's introduce everyone tomorrow, yeah?"

With that, the three roommates managed to sort out their belongings and prepare for next day's classes. Jefferson decided to go take a walk outside with Madison to ask around for some information he might've missed during his time away. Burr leaned back on his bed and pulled out a notebook. Writing wasn't really his thing, but he had learned to leave something for others to remember him by when he pass away in the future.

He wrote a short, succinct entry before lying down to take a nap. Well, what he had planned to just be a nap. Something woke him up suddenly. He sat up abruptly with a single word at the tip of his tongue.

 _Wait!_

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 ** _Please Read &Review!_**


	4. Chapter 3: Meeting old friends

**This is not the entire chapter! I'm not done writing that yet, but it got really long because I got carried away with exposition and Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette stuff.**

 **Edit Feb 8: I've uploaded the rest of the chapter!**

 **Word count: 3345 words and it's going the longest chapter of anything I've written before.**

 **Enjoy!**

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First day of college! How exciting! Ever since his head finally cleared up a few months ago, Alexander Hamilton could not wait to go to school and learn about all the new advancements that have been made in the past centuries. He copied down many of them on his laptop, then wrote by hand the most interesting ones inside his notebooks. Despite the handy invention of computers, he still preferred writing his thoughts down by hand. It gave him a rush, a feeling of accomplishing something that was absent when he typed pages after pages of documents. Several reference books and notebooks had already piled up inside his backpacks before the semester even started! He convinced his new foster parents (he had parents!) to lend him two small suitcases to pack up the rest of his belongings, because most of his clothes (and wasn't that an interesting thing to see, the new styles of clothing) would not fit inside his backpacks. He was almost at the school when he saw a familiar person.

Meeting Burr was a shock to him. Yes, he'd came to G. King College because he heard that George Washington was the principal there. Hamilton had high hopes that this Washington was his general. The way he carried himself on that picture Hamilton found sure confirmed his thoughts.

Burr was another confirmation. While Hamilton himself had been hesitant to approach the young man, his curiosity won over. He creeped up to Burr. He knew it wouldn't do himself any good to irritate Burr this much, but he couldn't help himself. When they traded off those familiar words, he felt a joy rise in him. Burr quickly went off lines, but Hamilton immediately tried to get it back on track. It had been a while, so people changed, right? Seeing the discomfort in Burr's face, Hamilton was suddenly spurred into trying to make Burr tick as fast as possible. In fact, he won that game since Burr couldn't contain himself any longer after his rant about Washington and interrupted him with a louder voice than usual. Small successes counted, you know. Hamilton wasn't trying to repeat the past here. Poor Burr needed to let it out a bit before he turned murderous or something.

Alexander Hamilton knew about _it_. That day at Weehawken. The stupid duel that ended his life. The mistake of throwing away his shot. That day when he left poor Betsey a widow with seven children. He had nightmares about it even. In the first year, when confusion still muddled his brain, he had thought it was only a dream or more accurately deemed, a nightmare of his own creation. That was before he decided to scan for every book he could get about Alexander Hamilton, his namesake. If he followed those dreams correctly, there were quite a few inconsistencies, but by his sixth year of dreaming everyday, he was absolutely convinced that his dreams were in reality memories of a time long passed, a long while ago. For one, the dreams were too vivid to be just dreams. Nothing unnatural other than the presence of the dreams themselves. Secondly, something felt right about them, a familiarity with every word dream him spoke. Finally, after he started his extensive research, he found that there were several common points: the Battle of Yorktown, John Laurens' death, his time as George Washington's right hand man, Eliza Schuyler becoming his wife (though no text mentioned Angelica Schuyler trying to take a bite out of him), his affair with Maria, his son's (he had a son!) death, and of course, his own passing at the hand of Burr, after that cursed duel. He had always told himself to not throw away his shot and what happened at the end? Fortunately, by the time he met Burr again, that day in fall, in front of his new college, he had long gotten over his own death and had decided to test out a theory of his.

He approached Burr as he had in his previous life, eagerly, readily to prove himself correct.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr sir?" He saw the young man visibly flinch and felt something vindictive in himself cheer. The man turned around and Hamilton saw Burr in person for the first time in centuries. Burr looked extremely nervous.

"That depends, who's asking?"

Hamilton took that as an invitation to continue speaking. At some point, he knew that his theory was correct because Burr spoke to him with way too much familiarity for them to have just met each other today. When Burr tried to change the subject and alluded about the recklessness Hamilton exhibited in the past, the soon-to-be freshman was completely certain that Burr too remembered. To what extent would be determined later. But the man knew something. And Alexander Hamilton liked knowing things.

By then they had quickly reached the residence buildings already, talking all the way. Hamilton peered around in amazement, taking in the mix-and-mash of modern buildings and older ones around the campus. His residence building was one of the shortest ones, with only five floors. He could see students wearing jeans and hoodies casually hanging out beside the fountain near the building, the statue of a bald eagle frozen mid-flight at the tip of the fountain.

There was a strong feeling of optimism within Hamilton. He thought that while his last life might've ended quickly, he was not throwing away his shot this time. He would rise to the occasion of a thriving nation. All that depended on a good first impression on the teachers and lots and lots of work to do.

They dropped off Burr's belonging inside Burr's room. No hints of anyone else was yet present in his room. Hamilton grumbled at that. He really wanted to know who could put up with Burr's indecisiveness and his constant state of neutrality. He wondered if Burr followed his advice to stand for something as much as he followed the latter's advice to talk less smile more. Probably. While still in thoughts, Hamilton had trailed after Burr off of the elevator and into a bright hallway. He mentally prepared himself to unpack and note some things down about today, but this was interrupted by the faint sound of partying coming from a door to his left. Oh or rather, his own room's door. The rachet drifted past him and something in him resounded with that sound. It was familiar. It was friendly. It was…

He launched himself at that door, dropping his suitcases to the floor ("Ham-Wait!") and threw himself in loudly announcing his arrival with a question he knew the occupants would answer.

"WHAT TIME IS IT?"

They did not disappoint him.

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"So… youuuuu rememBURR toooo?" Laurens flopped onto his bed a bit later after introducing his turtle Bob to him.

"Indeed, I thought I was the only one!" Hamilton exclaimed. Hercules laughed in the back of the room, surrounded by a pile of clothing designs.

"Yeah, us too, but then we met a lot of the others here in college! Four years back, our memories came to us very confusingly."

"Burr remembered before all of us though," Lafayette interjected with a very slight accent. "Six to seven years ago I think? He didn't talk to us directly, but I heard it from Jefferson."

"Jefferson?!" Hamilton lunged at Lafayette, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking him back and forth. "What do you mean?! Are you friends with him now?! Why did he also remember goddammit!" Laurens drunkenly pulled Hamilton away from his French friend.

"Heyyyy, heyyyyy, he's alriiiight now. Toned it dooooown a bit now that no one recognizes him as a 'Founding Father' according to the Internet," he said reassuringly, sounding very drunk. "Ya'll see him tomorrow or something, don't antagonize 'im too much, alrighty?" He wobbily sat back down, this time onto Hercules' bed.

Hamilton retracted his hand.

"Did Burr avoid you people or something?" he asked frowning. "Is he waiting again? It didn't work out too sweet for him last time right?"

"Who knows," Lafayette chimed in, glaring at his friends. "Society is free-er now than in our time. Much more open to us immigrants too. Well, until recently." He narrowed his eyes when Hamilton seemed to be getting ready to argue with him.

"Yoooo," Laurens interrupted again. "Let's talk about something else!" He rolled across the floor to Hamilton and propped himself up on the mattress. "Liiiiiike… Is there a special someone on your side, Alexander?" He leaned closer and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. Hamilton laughed awkwardly and turned to face Hercules instead.

"So you're taking design classes? What are you majoring in?"

Hercules gave him a look that clearly showed he knew exactly what Hamilton was doing, but he answered anyway.

"Yeah, I'ma try to get a job in the fashion industry. Plus the prof's George King and I wanna keep an eye on him just in case. I got a scholarship too cuz they like my work." Nevertheless, he looked a bit dejected.

Hamilton patted him on the knee reassuringly and looked at some of his sketches. "Don't worry, I think you're good at fashion stuff! Look at your pants, they look hot! Hey this jacket too, I can just imagine one of us wearing it!"

Hercules huffed and commented amusedly. "I'm not gonna trust your fashion sense Alexander. You wore green over green as clashingly as Jefferson with his purple, remember?"

Hamilton did not look the slightest ashamed and while Lafayette gripped his chest dramatically, looking aghast.

"Monsieur! Is that what you've been doing while I'm off in France?! Oh what a disaster…" He trailed off mumbling about "stupid genius boys who don't have common sense".

The conversation peppered off into a comfortable silence while the occupants watched Hamilton unpack his small suitcase filled with clothes of all sorts and place his three backpacks inside the closet. From his bigger suitcase, he pulled out a few books and trinkets and placed them around the room. There were no boundaries of any kind since the four young men were very at ease with sharing a room together and the organized mess made the room seem more lively, more like home.

They left the door cracked open and from time to time, Hamilton caught the glance of a few curious stragglers wandering the halls, some more familiar to him than others.

"Pst! Is that Charles Lee?" He nudged Laurens lightly. The latter looked back at him languidly.

"Hmmm, raise a glass to-"

"Yo Laurens! Earth to Laurens!"

"Right, yeah, that's him. He's in our history class, can you believe that?" Laurens yawned slightly. "Anyway, I'ma sleep. Wake me up at a decent time. No wait, Alexander don't wake me, Hercules wake me up please." With that, he stretched on the bed he was on and started snoring. Hamilton glared at the freckled man. It was his bed Laurens was lying on. Now where was he going to put the rest of his notebooks?

With Laurens sleeping so soundly, the rest of them started getting ready for bed as well. None of them seemed to want to eat supper. Maybe it was the excitement of the day catching up to him, maybe it was something else. Nevertheless, instead of going down for supper, the other three occupants of the room clambered onto their respective beds (Hamilton taking Laurens' bed) and went to sleep one by one. Hamilton lied on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, seeing different patterns and slowly sinking into his memory-dreams. The last conscious thought he had was,

 _It's been awhile since I last saw them smile…_

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He woke up at a reasonable time. Of course he did. He always did.

Alexander Hamilton glanced blearily at the alarm clock.

4:30 AM

As he was saying, a decent, reasonable time.

They had went to bed early yesterday anyway. Four hours of sleep was enough for Hamilton. He still had a few books to read before classes start at 9:00 AM. He sat up slowly, eyes getting accustomed to the darkness of the room, and felt his way to the ladder down the bunk bed. The slowly got down, mindful of the creaking when his feet pressed against the smooth wood of each ladder rung. Despite that, as he reached the floor, he was immediately pulled over onto a lower bunk. He struggled for a few seconds before realizing it was just Lafayette. Heavy lidded brown eyes stared back at him.

"Merde Alexander, go back to sleep... Take a break from the reading and writing, oui?" He mumbled. Hamilton raised his hands defensively and stood back up.

"But I have so much work to do!" He whispered fiercely.

Lafayette opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a sniffle and movement on the other bottom bunk across the room. Lafayette gave Hamilton a look. Hamilton bit his lips, very upset. He slowly made his way to the other side and leaned down to see Laurens who was still sleeping in his bed. Sleeping very restlessly. He was flipping from side to side, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, hands clutching tightly onto the edge of his blanket. Hamilton muttered a soft "Oh Laurens…" and moved in to wake him up. His hand was slapped away by Laurens. Hamilton clenched his jaw in pain, but leaned back down, this time quicker, and shook the other man roughly. Laurens sat up quickly, panting.

"Fuck!" Hamilton cursed where he was lying, crumpled on the floor as he startled to his friend's sudden movement. His forehead was red from being whacked by the other's head. He could hear Lafayette's nervous giggle behind him and turned around to yell at him, but he was stopped by Laurens' hand. The latter smiled weakly at him.

"I didn't want you to see me like this…" Hamilton sighed and held the freckled man's hand.

"It's alright Laurens, you know, we all have nightmares these days…" He said softly glancing up to see the other two occupants of the room staring back at him. Mulligan seemed to have woke up sometime during the scuffle. He was sneaky like that. Hamilton looked back at Laurens.

"Do you want to go back to sleep? Or would you prefer staying awake? It's a pretty reasonable time to get up now."

Lafayette scoffed in the background but Hamilton ignored him. Laurens was also staring at him incredulously.

"Bro, I still need my sleep!" With a huff, he leaned back and straightened up his bed. Then, he closed his eyes. "It's alright, I still have you guys!" He relaxed his grip on Hamilton's hand. The latter drew his hand away smoothly and went to his new desk. He lit up the dim lamp and poured out a few notebooks from a bag. Finding the right one, he pulled it out of the pile and flipped to the closest empty page and started writing his heart out onto the paper. There were movements behind him but he ignored them expertly, intent on finishing his short piece. Soon, silence fell back in the room save for the scratching sound of a pencil on rough paper.

* * *

When the sun filtered through the window, Hamilton had just finished writing his 25th page. Lafayette was the first one up, the first one to rush into the bathroom where he would spend the next hour hogging it. Mulligan was up next. He casually changed on his top bunk, wearing the jeans he was wearing the day before and a new shirt he had randomly grabbed from the side closet. It was then that Hamilton remembered he needed to get changed as well. He had his first classes today!

With a rough shove, he stuffed all his papers inside his binder, then slipped that inside his backpack. He was tempted to bring another bag with him, but he only had two classes in the morning and he had free hands to hold his textbooks. Laurens was still snoring away, curled up in his blanket on the ground where he seemed to have fallen sometime during the night. Mulligan was in the process of waking him up, with a few nudges of his feet. Laurens rolled away and back and away again before his head gently bumped against the bed-frame leg. The cool wood woke him up and he sat up blearily.

"What's the rush? Are we late? Fuck hangovers, my head ugh…" He groaned as he stood up from the ground with a wobble. His speech was a lot clearer now without the slur of a drunk.

"Hey," Hamilton greeted him with a smile. "It's not late, we've still got an hour to go have breakfast and find our classes."

"AN HOUR?!" Laurens moaned. "That's not enough!" He grabbed Hamilton by the shoulder and dragged him out. "Have you gone to school, kid? We need to go soon, or else there'll be a long line in the cafeteria!"

"I'm only nineteen, but my mind is older," Hamilton mumbled frowning.

"What?" Both Mulligan and Laurens turned around.

"I mean, don't call me kid! I'm not much younger than you guys!"

"You were a decade younger before…"

"Mulligan, that was centuries ago-"

"But-"

"DON'T CALL ME KID!"

"Alright alright!" Laurens quickly interrupted. "Imma call you Alex, ok? 'Cause Alexander sounds too old-fashioned nowadays."

"What is the meaning of this?" Lafayette had came out of the bathroom, looking very crossly at them. "It is too early to be already shouting like this." His tense voice made way for a thicker French accent.

The three young men shrank back, seeming slightly ashamed of themselves. Hamilton cleared his throat awkwardly to break the awkward silence that had settled.

"So… breakfast anyone?"

That jolted them out of their daze and a flurry of activity followed.

Within 10 minutes, the hungry occupants in the room were ready for the breakfast rush. They squeezed out of the room in a rush and scrambled out into the wider hallway, whooping as they slide down the banisters of the stairs and skipping a few steps at a time. The door to the main level opened with a bang as they piled out the stairs, hair ruffled, face red with laughter, eyes alight with joy. The few people still in the main hall glared at their loud noises.

"Sorry 'bout that," Mulligan was the only one who apologized. By the time he finished, Lafayette had already snatched him by the arm and dragged him off in the direction of the cafeteria building. "Gah!"

The cafeteria building was an unfamiliar building a block away from their dorm. It was also where the culinary classes took place. The only one of them who took that class was Lafayette. He claimed to be taking those classes to check out food that wasn't French cuisine, but honestly, Hamilton thought it was more likely that Laurens or Mulligan blackmailed him into bringing them free food everyday.

Approaching the cafeteria room was akin to approaching a hurricane. It was going from the quiet freshness of the outdoors to the rowdy and suffocating throngs of people in line for food.

Hamilton wandered a bit from the group to peer over the heads of giants and see what the college had for breakfast. He stood on his toes, eyebrows scrunched up, neck stretched up. He was about to head to an opening in the line where he would be able to see past the waves of people when he was knocked to the ground. The heavy weight of a body fell on top of him. A panicked voice muttered apologies as the weight lifted from him. Hamilton straightened up his clothes and looked up. A familiar face.

Brown, almond-shaped eyes, wide in surprise. Long, smooth hair, a few dark strands falling over her shoulders. A slim build, out of the usual teal blue dress, in a light blue shirt and a pair of black slacks. He would recognize her anywhere.

"Eliza?"

* * *

 **Please R &R!**


	5. Chapter 4: The Schuyler Sisters

**Exams are coming up soon and so much work! I'm going to try to finish the next chapter of my One Piece fanfic but otherwise I'm taking a break until summer comes around!**

 **word count: 1685**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"What took you so long, Eliza?" Angelica asked her when she came back to their table. Her mind barely registered the question, too preoccupied with her previous encounter.

"Eliza?"

"Ah! Y-yes?" Eliza snapped out of her dazed mind, looking around to see who called her. Her younger sister Peggy was repeatedly poking her arm.

"You wouldn't answer Angelica! I was worried!"

"R-right…" Eliza smiled a bit sheepishly. "I just saw someone familiar that's all…"

"Oh really?" Her older sister sidled up to her. "Familiar as in you've seen them around before? Or familiar like… _familiar_?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by that. Just because you repeat the same word twice doesn't mean I'll know exactly what you're trying to say."

"Burn!" Peggy whispered under her breath but the two other sisters heard her anyway.

"Peggy! Shut up!" Angelica glared at her.

"I've burned plenty of things before," Eliza commented nonchalantly. "It's not a surprise that-"

"So who was it?" The eldest Schuyler Sister cut in.

"Well-"

"Well, if it ain't the Schuyler Sisters!" A bright voice interrupted their conversation. The three young women looked back to see a very happy John Laurens waving at them a few meters away. Some students ducked away so as not to block Laurens. He approached their table with two of his best friends, Gilbert blablabla Marquis de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan. Eliza briefly wondered where Alexander went. Didn't he leave her to go find them…?

"Oho," Laurens bent over to lean on her shoulder. His eyes were an inch from her face and seemed sharper than she had expected them to be. "Seems like you saw my bud! Where was he?"

"I was under the impression that he went to find you…" Eliza replied stiffly, slightly confused and angled her head away from Laurens' face.

"Ah Mesdemoiselles!" Lafayette pushed Laurens out of the way and bowed down to kiss her hand. He then did the same to the other two sisters. "How nice it is to see you all again! Peggy's here too I see! How were the summer vacations?"

"Lovely," Angelica answered with her best 'posh British accent'. "What brings you here at our table before lunch today?"

"It was never stated that we HAVE to meet up ONLY at lunch, you know!" Laurens laughed.

"True. It was just a way to have Thomas and the rest meet up with us too. Mon Dieu, did you and Thomas hate each other. Moreover, now that…" Lafayette trailed off with a sigh.

"Now what?" Angelica asked defensively.

"Now that you share a class with him in fourth period political science with Professor Washington, it's going to get worse…" Hercules continued smoothly.

Eliza felt that there was something else going on, perhaps something that had to do with Alexander, but she kept her silence.

"Well I don't know how you knew that, but you're right!" Angelica said hotly. "It was such a shame that we had different periods of political science classes last year, but this time I swear…"

"Ah, oui, what classes do you girls have before lunch?" Lafayette interrupted the start of Angelica's tirade.

"Math, then Biology!" Peggy quickly perked up, eager to add something to the conversation.

"I see. You'll have to wait until lunch then."

"Whyyyy…" Peggy whined, pouting and feeling left out.

"Eliza, you?" Lafayette asked, ignoring the other girl while Laurens patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"I have Biology as well, then history with Professor Washington," Eliza answered.

"Oh, you don't share a class with him either then, I'm not sure how he'll feel about that." Eliza's heart did a weird flop she couldn't quite interpret.

"Who are you talking about?" Angelica asked loudly.

"Just someone we met before," Mulligan replied dismissively. Angelica opened her mouth to inquire more about this mysterious person, but Laurens cut in.

"We have half an hour to eat and find our first class and get good seats! Come on, let's hurry!" With that, he sprinted back into the crowds of students in the cafeteria, Mulligan dragging Lafayette behind him. Her sister frowned, unsatisfied with their evasive answer.

"Is it just me or are they hiding something?" Peggy voiced their thoughts.

"They're always hiding something," Angelica said primly. "They're boys. Ok, young men, but that's pretty much the same thing."

"I think we should listen to Laurens and start eating," Eliza reminded them.

"Well, I'm already done!" Peggy announced smugly, showing her empty plate. The other two sisters sighed and quickly worked on finishing their food in silence.

"Do you think Alexander is here?" Angelica suddenly wondered. Eliza almost spat out her food.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, they're clearly hiding something, as Peggy noticed. And there's not many of us left to meet, you know," Angelica explained. "The group is almost complete. Who else isn't here yet and knows those three guys as a trio?"

"Someone from the army maybe?" Eliza hazarded.

"No, that can't be…" Angelica frowned and stopped the conversation.

The two of them finished their breakfast and hurried to their next class, leaving their youngest sister behind.

"Hey! … Hey, wait up!" Peggy sprinted after them, to the amusement of a few bystanders.

* * *

"Alex? Hey, my boi! What ya doing here?"

"Laurens? What- Oh, is it time already?"

"Yeah… are you alright?"

Hamilton did not respond. He looked dejectedly at his plate, his hand absentmindedly jotting down his thoughts on the napkin beside him. There were many holes in the napkin and the writing was completely illegible, but Hamilton did not seem to realize that. Lafayette elbowed Laurens hard.

"Does he look alright to you?" He hissed.

"I was just asking!" Laurens answered defensively. He awkwardly shifted on his feet before carefully tapping Hamilton's head. "Hey man, whatever it is, you can talk to us about it, yeah? Come on, it's almost time for class!"

With a heavy sigh, Hamilton pulled himself up and trudged towards where he assumed his next class would be. Mulligan immediately took hold of his arms and lifted him up, placing him gently to make him face the hallway on the other end of the room.

"Yo, I think you're going the wrong way Alexander…" Hamilton patted him gratefully on the shoulder and wandered the right way this time. Laurens, Mulligan, and Lafayette all followed him the short way to his class. Halfway there, they had to part ways since Mulligan had to go to his design studies class while the other three had the same morning history class together.

Hamilton was struck by the sudden realization that this was just like the olden days before the revolution started, when he went to meet his friends everyday with a reluctant Burr trailing behind him. Modern life was different though. The setting, while still in a college, was sharper and glossier than before. Of course, this was not accounting the fact that Burr had left the four of them for Jefferson and Madison of all people. Hamilton had briefly wondered before what their relationship might have been like if Jefferson did not exist, but the headache that seemed to strike him each time he thought of that purple-suited idiot prevented him from thinking of that what-if scenario in any detail.

He looked around to distract himself. Sweet, light-hearted chatter floated past his ear. Groups of friends rushed past, laughing and bemoaning about future workloads. Young women and men alike mingled in the hallway, looking at ease with each other. No burden of fighting in an army, no fear of future attacks at any time. No slaves, though some races still stuck closer to each other. It was an improvement though. He smiled slightly. Indeed, things were different now.

He wondered if the Washington at this college was the General, the First President of the United States, incarnated. He knew that he shouldn't be too open about the memories thing, but he was longing for his past father-figure. Lafayette and the rest of his friends would not tell him, saying it was a surprise for him. He took that as a confirmation that the George Washington here was his George Washington. He did not dare hope that their relationship would stay the same though. He remembered that startling, awkward meeting with his dear Eliza in the cafeteria an hour ago. It was disastrous and bittersweet. They small-talked and flitted around the main topic that was the source of tension between them. Eliza had tears in her eyes, but he did not know how to comfort her, other than apologizing over and over again. They parted ways, stiff, meaningless excuses flying out their mouth, and with an unresolved tension between them.

He should take a break.

His mind was too high strung to focus properly. When that happened in the past, he remembered his friends comforting him and his General's calming voice talking him out of that state. This was what he needed now. He couldn't wait to see…

Laurens led him inside a classroom. The door opened to a large room where the desks are arranged around in a circular shape. Not many students were in the classroom yet, a few lingered by the doorway, waiting for the time to come, one or two were in a corner, talking quietly behind their books. What caught Hamilton's eye was a single figure standing by the blackboard, chalk in hand, soft scratching sounds accompanying the first lines of their textbook on the board. White dust floated about, reminding him of the General's old wig color. The man was tall, and stood upright with a stiff back. He wore a large coat over his shoulder and army boots. As he turned around to face the door, Hamilton's breath caught at his throat. Intense dark eyes matched a pair of wide brown ones. The professor's mouth opened slightly, and his eyes looked suspiciously shiny all of a sudden. Hamilton entered cautiously, wary of the tears he had already encountered once today. The professor came closer and Hamilton asked hesitantly:

"Commander...sir?"

A warm voice answered immediately.

"Stay alive Alexander. That's an order from your commander."

* * *

 **Pls Read &Review!**


	6. Chapter 5: How you say, how you say

**Procrastination hit me like 85 essays and so I wrote the next chapter for this. Lafayette backstory exposition is frankly too long and the historical part is just... why. But I decided to put this up anyway and come back to make stuff flow better later.**

 **Word count: 2356**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

It was fortunate that General Washington did not jump straight to teaching about the American Revolution. From the look of it, American History would start with the settlement of the first Europeans, specifically the British and French people out in Canada. Lafayette did not like the fact that they would be spending so much time on the arrival of the British people, but the mention of his home country always cheered him up. Lafayette understood that Great Britain had become a powerful country for a time in history. He could at least console himself that while the French were just as regressed as Great Britain nowadays, the United States of America had rose up to be seen as one of the main superpowers in the world. He felt proud knowing that he played a part in the rise of America, although he and his friends were mentioned very rarely from what he could remember from previous history classes in high school.

The first thing Lafayette did when he had regained his past life's memory was familiarizing himself with the Interweb, or how you say, how you say… Internet! Yes that was it! He recognized from the very start that there were a lot of new technologies available now and if he ever needed to gather supplies for something dangerous, the Internet and computers had a wealth of information he could use. He had immediately recalled this life's memories on phones and computers. A few familiar names sifted through and he leaped up in excitement. John Laurens and Hercules Mulligan! They were two of the few contacts he had on his phone. They were also two people he remembered being friends with from his life as the French Marquess, the only two people that he still interacted with in this life. Laurens had been a fervent curly haired student who joined many social issue clubs back in high school. Mulligan was an intimidating student and a member of the only knitting club of the school, one composed of 90% female students. Despite that, the boy was able to fit in very quickly with his fellow club members. It was clear that even without previous memories, the very souls of his friends did not change. Both had joined a pen pal program as children, which was where Lafayette was first acquainted with them. He was still in France when the memories returned to him. The first day, panic and the feeling of loneliness permeated his very being. It was lucky that Laurens and Mulligan still kept contact with him years after the pen pal program ended. They seemed to have regained their memories at around the same time since a week later, they had all taken a week off from school to sort things out. They knew a lot of the course material anyway. Lafayette's aunt and uncle were not happy with him, but he faked being homesick and took the fastest plane to New York City the day they left him with a friend of theirs while they left on a trip to Asia.

Meeting the two was inexplicably different from writing to them. They looked younger than he remembered and both of them stood in a much looser, casual fashion that the war did not allow them to do. Seeing Laurens for the first time in forever was very painful. He still remembered the fateful letter he received when he returned to France, detailing Laurens' death in South Carolina. He was planning to go back after the revolution in France had settled down, but was unexpectedly sent to prison for the remaining years of the momentous change in his country. By the time he was back on American soil, Hamilton had long been killed in the duel against Burr (he knew that man was the worst, he called it) and Mulligan had passed away recently. He briefly toured America in the name of his deceased friends and the late George Washington before passing away himself.

Speaking of Hamilton, he was disappointed to learn that Hamilton hadn't showed up in New York City when he visited Mulligan and Laurens. They hadn't heard from other acquaintances, but Lafayette already knew that he was lucky to have met his two friends beforehand. They set up some ways of contact, hit a few bars, and discussed the huge change that America had undergone since the Revolution. Laurens was particularly happy about the end of slavery after the American Civil War, despite the high losses both sides suffered. History had been interesting and that was why Lafayette decided to take an American history course this year as well. The fact that his professor was George Washington himself only added to that decision. Knowing now that Hamilton had the same class with him was a joy. Meeting Hamilton was a joy. He was always ready to meet his friends again and while it seemed like it was only a few years ago that he died, he was constantly reminded of how young his friends were before he left again for France, how they had died without a goodbye.

Washington was his only friend who had said goodbye. In fact, the speech was well-done and well-written. Lafayette could imagine Hamilton inserting a few lines here and there to show his respect to his Commander. He was doing the same thing now, listening attentively to the professor and taking notes vigorously on his thick notebook. Lafayette wrote a lot slower, with loops in his handwriting, but he was more concerned watching the General's unfamiliar handwriting fly across the board as he talked. New technology, newer materials had greatly changed his form. Lafayette wondered what other quirks from his modern life before the memories came influenced his behavior today. Probably his tendency to be a bit narcissistic and rude against the King.

Washington was still talking about the arrival of the Europeans though he had moved away from the Canadian aspect of it to focus on to America. Lafayette briefly wondered when the General could have gotten his memories, but the lull of the morning sun shining through the window was dragging him back to sleep. Just a short nap, he told himself as he slowly closed his eyes and relaxed against the cool surface of his desk. Just a short harmless nap.

* * *

"Lafayette?"

"Hey boi, wake up!"

"Son, open your eyes."

Different voices filtered through his mind. Where was he? Who are they? What was he doing?

"Careful, he's a tad disoriented."

A gentle hand guided him up. Lafayette blinked his eyes tiredly at the three men before him.

"Ah… who… wait," he blinked the vestige of sleep from his mind. " Hamilton? Laurens? Sir?"

He saw their sigh of relief. This wasn't the first time it had happened, that initial confusion after a longer nap than usual, but this time, something else had happened during his dream. He just couldn't remember yet, he was sure of it.

"Okay!" Laurens grinned brightly and leaned on the desk behind him, stretching. "Let's go to our next class!"

"Ah oui, our next class…" Lafayette mumbled, getting out of his desk groggily. Despite being mentally older than his physical age, he still felt like a child who got caught stealing from the cookie jar. He studiously avoided Washington's disapproving eyes.

The General sighed.

"Just pay attention next time alright?" Lafayette nodded immediately and dragged Laurens out the door with a slight wave. As he passed the doorway, he vaguely heard Washington's fond voice tell Hamilton, "Son, I'll see you again in political science this afternoon!" and his friend's half-hearted "Don't call me son!". He smiled, knowing his friend probably missed the General as much as he did.

As Hamilton joined him soon after, Lafayette patted him on the back and asked, "So how was professor Washington?"

The answering smile was enough to tell him that the occasional nightmares he still suffered from his revolutionary and prison days were worth it.

* * *

Something was going to go wrong on the first day of class. Burr could feel it in him. He could tell from the experience he had on waiting for the bomb to go off during his and Hamilton's lawyering days. He entered the classroom, took one glance around, and backpedaled out the door.

 _Oh god, Jefferson and Hamilton were in the same class together..._

He had thought that they could've avoided that confrontation until lunch at least, with both of them securely separated by the girls and the other people of the 'squad'. But his luck was as bad as it always has been and he was stuck with Madison and Lafayette being the only people who could stop those two unruly _children_ from spitting the most creative and demeaning insults in front of a professor whose teaching style he had experienced before and it was as interesting as watching paint dry. As much as the verbal battles between Jefferson and Hamilton would have made the class so much more entertaining, Burr was set in avoiding conflict right now and at least making a good impression on the professor.

The two had not seen each other yet as they were on completely opposite sides of the lecture hall. However, he had already caught Madison's eye and Lafayette just waved at them surreptitiously. He and Madison purposely guided Jefferson to sit far away from where Hamilton and Lafayette were. There were a few minutes of idle chatting where Lafayette seemed to have successfully diverted Hamilton's attention with an engaging conversation on social hierarchy or something. Burr and Jefferson's acquaintance was less friendly compared to Lafayette and Hamilton's relationship, but he did his best to distract Jefferson too, with questions about French culture and the places the afro-haired man had visited last month. Fortunately, the latter had been very enthusiastic in introducing him to a country he had not yet visited.

"-you would think that they were all "hon hon hon, oui oui, baguette, croissant, parapluie…" or something, but you haven't seen the real beauty of such a romantic language! Indeed my stay in France was most elegant and enjoyable compared to the ruffians I have to deal with everyday here in America, but honestly that was to be expected. The French Revolution did impact the history of France very much, I'd say, but they had left those violent days behind for sure. If you ever go there (I doubt it, but you sure have the financial means to do so) you should go outside of Paris and visit some other cities and villages, like Lyon and Bordeaux because those places were charming as well, (the wine in Bordeaux was a wonder by itself) and I had missed them the first time I went there…"

Burr nodded understandingly, giving his remarks here and there about what he had heard about France.

"So would you go back anytime soon?"

"Ha! I wish! No, I decided to spend some time back here in America with you people. Am I not such a nice person? To bless you Federalists with the proper ideals of the nation!"

"So you are still stuck in the past like that hmm? I would have thought that living your life now would have changed your ideas slightly…"

"Believe it or not I have toned it down."

"By toning down, you mean, you haven't met your favorite argument opponent and you are bored of doing nothing.

"…"

"You know… you've been awfully talkative today, Burr. What's the occasion?" Jefferson remarked after a long pause, looking at him shrewdly.

Burr met his eyes impassively, but he was grimacing inside. Perhaps he wasn't as successful as he thought when it came to distractions.

"I'm doing the attendance now, everyone please go back to your seat," the teacher announced. Burr sighed as Jefferson glared at him one last time before sitting down, chin up high.

"Amy Ainsworth?"

"Here."

"Jacob Ashton?"

"Yeah!"

"Aaron Burr?"

"Present, sir."

"Leila Dali?"

"Present!"

"Rika Fushijima?"

"Here!"

A few more names passed before...

"Alexander Hamilton?"

"Present, Sir!" A few snickers could be heard at the call of the weird, historical name. Burr sighed. Seeing Hamilton's face plastered over all those ten dollar bills had not made his day.

He risked a glance at Jefferson who was fuming. Yes, that man did not look happy either. But he wisely held off from commenting and disrupting the roll call.

"Victoria Henderson?"

"Yes?"

"Penelope Howards?"

"Yep."

"Lia Joyberry"

"Here..."

"Thomas Jefferson-"

"Present~" Jefferson answered smoothly, smirking at Hamilton across the room. More snickers and whispers were heard as another Founding Father's name had been called. Burr wondered how his classmates must feel to be surrounded by so many students with the name of famous historical figures. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud slamming sound. He winced. Hamilton…

"JEFFERSON, W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!"

"Getting an education, what else?" Jefferson replied without a pause.

"YOU-"

"Ehehe, hehe" Jefferson laughed that strange laugh of his.

Hamilton seemed very pissed off. If he had been a feline, Burr could imagine his tail fluffing right up, claws out, like his hands right now, gripping at the wooden surface of the desk. Teeth bared in a hiss, back curved up like a bridge, all the fur standing up on their ends. As it was, he still looked every furious and very threatening in a chihuahua kind of way. If Burr had not remembered the bold way Hamilton had stolen those cannons back in downtown New York, if he had not known the power of Hamilton's pen first hand, then he would have completely dismissed the other young man as just a petty child throwing a temper tantrum. As it was, he felt worried that the main force of the Federalist Papers would find the Newspaper Club of this college and turn it the school upside down. Thankfully, Lafayette was holding his friend back, just in case Hamilton was going to leap over the desk and deck Jefferson. Burr could see Madison inching closer to Jefferson, intending to do the same. Burr sighed and leaned back to watch the show.

This would be a long day.

* * *

 **Please review! Also, tell me if there are any problems with Lafayette's backstory, I relied on the information I remember off the top of my head from wikipedia a few months ago.**


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